#royal!lock

As the second son (Mycroft will become king eventually), Sherlock is expected to marry someone that will help strengthen his kingdom’s alliances. His father arranges for him to marry Princess Harriet, to try and put to rest the two kingdoms feud. When Sherlock travels to the other kingdom to get to know his betrothed, he instead meets, and falls completely in love with her brother John, the crown prince.

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You: [ Johnlock, Prince!lock, Royal!lock ] John Watson, a lowly servant, entered the royal chamber of Prince Sherlock after being granted permission. He made sure to lock the door behind him, knowing full well they couldn't have someone barge in. John was supposed to be helping Sherlock with the sciences, but little did the Kingdom know John had become more than a servant to Prince Sherlock. He was the prince's lover, even though it was terribly forbidden. Seeing the Prince upon his bed reading a book, John smiled and carefully padded over to the gorgeous man. "I brought you the cuppa you asked for, your majesty." John said, knowing the formalities of calling him royal names weren't needed, but it was so habit for him to do so. He held out the cup of tea for his gracious to take. "With your orders, I have been allowed to stay for the full night. What did you have in mind?" To be quite honest, John hoped they could lie together. It had been many days without the chance to secretly see one another, and John missed the royal so much.

Stranger: Sherlock looked up when John entered but quickly turned his attention back to his book, a smile hidden by the cover. He always enjoyed when John came around, especially when it had been a while. He rolled his eyes at the formality but put the book down and took the cup of tea, "The full night?" Sherlock echoed, taking a sip of the warm beverage, "The bed is rather cold, John, you need to remedy that." He said with a poorly smothered smirk.

You: John could help but let out a chuckle, and his lips turned into a smile. Leave it to Sherlock to always have a sly intent. He loved it, though, he really did. Just for kicks, John bowed graciously. "Anything you wish, your grace," he added, just for fun. It had been so long since he had gotten to warm Sherlock's bed, and he looked forwards to it every time. Whether they just slept in each others arms, or touched, it was still fantastic either way. John carefully padded to the other side of the bed, and climbed atop the covers beside his prince. He shifted a bit closer to the man and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "Are you rather cold as well? Must I remedy that, as well?"

Stranger: Sherlock hummed with approval as John got onto the bed, his heart beating slightly faster as it always did around John. He hated that they had to keep this a secret. He wanted nothing more than to parade John around, to show the kingdom that he had someone who cared about him. That status didn't matter; but for now, Sherlock didn't mind. "Now that you mention it, I believe I am. You may proceed in amending that."

You: John smiled gently, and turned to his side, draping his arm and leg over Sherlock. He kept close, so his chest was touching the man's side, and his lips moved to the prince's ear. "How is your tea, my love?" The blond servant asked, in a hushed voice. He made sure to speak quietly, and into Sherlock's ear. "I missed you." John tilted his head just slightly, and his lips pressed a gentle kiss to the man's temple. Oh, how he loved to be around Sherlock. Sherlock made his heart race, his heart feel good. He helped make John a better man. He wanted so badly to marry this man, and to be able to be with him. But it was so terribly forbidden, and he feared not only his own punishments for the crime, but the ones that may happen to the prince if their relationship was noticed. If only they could be together, and not have to hide. John wished for that, and only that.

Stranger: Sherlock hummed, his skin buzzing under where John's breath hit. He cherished the closeness, how warm John made him feel and how utterly content he was with the blond. In every other case of attempted suitors or companions in general, Sherlock would get bored immediately, but John was not boring. John was something else entirely. Something brilliant altogether, "Perfect, as usual. I'm sure you put something in it." He said with a lightly teasing smile as he leaned into the small contact, "I missed you as well, it seems everything is getting busier, louder. It's tedious." he sighed, turning his head to press into John's neck, his arms finally coming up to wrap around the other's middle, "We should leave." He suggested, as he usually did.

You: John held him tight, the warmth making his heart grow and beat quicker. He felt so content, and so loved. No one had ever made him feel this way. Not any of the nice servant girls. Sherlock was perfect, and whom he wanted to share his life with. "Do not worry, love. Tonight, things don't have to be busy. We can just share it together, the two of us." he whispered, with a gentle smile. His hand lifted to card through the prince's beautiful brunet curls, and he considered Sherlock's offer, yet again. "Where might we go, my love? You know I would love nothing more than to be with you, freely. I wish our Kingdom would let you love whomever you wanted, without a hassle."

Stranger: "Somewhere far, interesting. We could explore for as long as we wanted, no one could bother us." Sherlock hummed, listening to the faster beating of John's heart. He let out a small sigh, "I think it would be exciting. Stealing away in the middle of the night, the inevitable search before presuming me gone forever." He paused. It wasn't a terrible idea, but there would always be a chance that they were caught and John would not be seen in a favourable light. Sherlock buried his face in John's shirt letting out another sigh, "They're trying to find me another suitor." he admitted quietly.

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You: [ Johnlock, Prince!lock, Royal!lock ] John Watson, a lowly servant, entered the royal chamber of Prince Sherlock after being granted permission. He made sure to lock the door behind him, knowing full well they couldn't have someone barge in. John was supposed to be helping Sherlock with the sciences, but little did the Kingdom know John had become more than a servant to Prince Sherlock. He was the prince's lover, even though it was terribly forbidden. Seeing the Prince upon his bed reading a book, John smiled and carefully padded over to the gorgeous man. "I brought you the cuppa you asked for, your majesty." John said, knowing the formalities of calling him royal names weren't needed, but it was so habit for him to do so. He held out the cup of tea for his gracious to take. "With your orders, I have been allowed to stay for the full night. What did you have in mind to occupy ourselves?" To be quite honest, John hoped they could lie together. It had been many days without the chance to secretly see one another, and John missed the royal so much.

Stranger: Sherlock was fully distracted by the book and barely noticed when John entered. When he heard his voice, however, he looked up from the book with a small smile. Everyone else in the castle was boring, normal, average, or worse, meddlesome like his brother. John was the only one who was tolerable. It was unfortunate that he was a servant or else Sherlock would have loved him openly. As it was, they had to live in secrecy. He took the cup of tea with a murmured thank you and sipped it happily. He stood up and kissed John gently on the mouth. "Certainly not work on my science experiments."

You: John smiled and let out a soft laugh, reaching up a smaller hand to cup his cheek gently. "Well, I am quite content with doing anything you please." John answered. Still, though, the thought of lying together seemed quite fit, and it was a great way to make up for lost time. John loved when they touched, it was like a lovely bliss, one he had to admit he almost was addicted to. He wished to never leave the Prince's side, and to be able to love him freely. But it was forbidden in their world, by order of the King. So, secrecy was adamant. Reaching up on his tip toes, being the shorter, John carefully pressed a soft kiss onto the other's lips. He couldn't stand to be separated by class anymore; he wanted to touch Sherlock and love him freely. "I've missed you." John whispered, "It's been terribly long since we've spent alone time together."

Stranger: Sherlock kissed John back, letting his eyes flutter closed. "I've missed you as well. My brother has an inkling of what we're up to, I think," he said with a frown. "He's the one behind your extra duties away from me. Without his meddling, we could spend much more time together. He pulled on John's hand, leading him towards the bed. "The tea is lovely. I can always tell when you make it yourself. It tastes better." Sherlock took another sip of the cup and kissed John again, as if he could transfer the taste into his mouth. He wondered what people would say if he never let John leave his bedroom, so that they could be together whenever possible. Surely that would be noticed. And investigated. And John would get into trouble.

You: John kissed back, savoring the taste of the tea on Sherlock's lips. He couldn't help but smile into their locked lips, and he let out the softest laugh. "You taste lovely, my dear prince. And I am very glad you enjoy my tea." he whispered, though he went right back to kissing him again more thoroughly. After a few minutes, John pulled back, a little breathlessly, and he rested their foreheads together. "There are many other servants, but he deems me useful. Though it is my duty to serve your family, I wish I never had to leave your chambers." John tangled his fingers in the royal curls, and looked into his lovely iridescent gaze. "But Prince Mycroft has rendered to be a hypocrite. I know this is a terrible conclusion to make against a royal man, and a sin, but he is no less guilty than one of us. I saw him sneaking around the Kingdom to see one of the servants personally, at night. He has no reason to separate us, if he has committed the same forbidden crime as we have." John explained, with a soft sigh.

Stranger: Sherlock relaxed into John's kisses and closed his eyes, relishing the feeling and taste of John's lips against his own, the little sounds he made that Sherlock wished he could bottle up and keep on a shelf for when John wasn't here. He tipped his head into John's hand. He loved the feeling of John's fingers in his hair, pulling gently at his curls. He smiled at this fresh piece of gossip. "Are you certain that he's been with one of the servants?" he asked, letting out a laugh. That was perfect. He could trust his brother not to rat on him then. "You can sin around me, as much as you want, you know. And accusations against my horrid brother are always welcome. Who is that he's been seeing in secret?" He put a hand on John's shoulder and rubbed a thumb over the old wound there.

You: John nodded, letting out a content soft sigh when he felt the fingers work on his shoulder, over top the fabric of his uniform. Maybe it would be a good idea to remove his fatigues, so they could touch anywhere they'd like. But, that would be saved for later. "Yes, I accidentally stumbled upon them in mid snog." John admitted, cheeks flushing, "Though I wish I hadn't of seen the action, I know that there is no chance your brother would expose us unless he waned to be exposed himself. My prince, oh, it was Gregory Lestrade! The one who handles the stables!" John pointed out, letting out a soft chuckle. He kept sliding delicate hands through Sherlock's hair, massaging softly. He loved it when he could comfort and love the other. "Well, I've sinned enough already, I suppose it isn't really thought about any more."

You: *wanted.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled at the blush in John's cheeks, but his mouth fell open when John revealed who Mycroft's lover was. That was unexpected. His brother didn't enjoy spending time somewhere as dirty as the stables, after all, and he rarely rode a horse unless he had to. He brushed his nose against John's in a giddy, affectionate gesture. "Gregory Lestrade? Isn't that an unexpected twist. It is good that Mycroft is aware that you know. He won't dare tell about us now," he agreed. He hummed when John's fingers scraped lightly against his scalp. "We've all sinned, I believe. Everyone thinks that Mycroft is the most virtuous man in the kingdom when he's screwing the stableboy."

You: John giggled softly, brushing their noses together again. "Though I must respect your brother's choosing, as he is committing the same sin as us, I must point out that at least you're not screwing the stableboy. I'm in a higher class than that. It's because my mum has been serving the Queen all of her life." John pointed out, "I'd say you were more virtuous than him, and besides, he is no where near as smart and wonderful as you." John lifted up on his toes again and kissed Sherlock. "Would you be terribly offended if I were to slip from my garments? I have been wearing my uniform for days, giving as I have nothing else. It is terribly uncomfortable, my Prince. John asked, raising an eyebrow softly.

Stranger: Sherlock nodded, feeling a blush rise to this cheeks at John's praise. "I could care about your class, John. You're the best man here. Brave and true and honorable and handsome," he said, accepting John's kiss. He thought it was lovely, how John had to stretch up to kiss him. It allowed Sherlock to see his uniform pull up just a bit, see the muscles working. "Of course I won't be offended, John," he promised with a chuckle. "I want you to be comfortable here. If I had it my way, I would order you the finest clothes. Silk and satin, fur coats for winter and the smallest cloth garments for summer. You'd always be comfortable." It was too bad that Sherlock couldn't be seen giving special treatment to John, or John would be living as Sherlock was, in luxury.

You: John smiled softly, loving the care and thought Sherlock had towards him. He did not need luxury like the Prince, really. The only things he could ever wish to have was a lovely life with the man he loved, a nicer bed, and just a few extra sets of clothing. He was a simple person, and had been through enough to know that luxury was not always needed. But, if Sherlock would be insistent on getting him such things, he would not complain. He slipped his hands off of Sherlock, reluctantly, and used them to start undoing the buttons on his uniform. He needed to rid himself of such fatigues. Once he got his top portion of clothes off, he worked at his bottom half, knowing Sherlock wouldn't mind. It wasn't like they had never seen each other in the nude before. Once John was only dressed in a old pair of pants, he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and leaned up to kiss him again. "I missed your kisses, and your touches, and our conversations." John admitted, blushing again. "I'd often think of you while I was working on my duties, wondering if you were tending to the mold in the en-suite, or if you were testing some itching concoction on your brother that you had created."

Stranger: Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed and watched as John stripped out of his clothes. They really were ratty and old and dirty. Perhaps Sherlock could get John a new uniform without causing too much attention. He could say he was displeased that the royal servants were dressed so shabbily. He could make John's uniform comfortable, even if it was the only article of clothing allowed to him. Sherlock himself had a new outfit for every day and the most comfortable nightwear possible. He kissed John back, whimpering when he pulled away. He wanted to stay here and kiss John for the rest of his life. "I missed all that as well," he said, laughing at the image of Mycroft covered in his itching powder. "Perhaps I'll try that. And then when Gregory Lestrade starts itching as well, everyone will wonder." He paused for a moment. "Would you like me to undress as well?"

You: John chuckled softly, and reached up his calloused hands. "I shall undress you." he said, with a smile. He carefully stripped him of his tailored clothes, until he sat in nothing but a pair of black, silk pants. They complimented his skin tone, and John smiled even wider as he slid his own hands over the other man's chest. He pulled them away once he had touched the entire expanse and blushed softly. "Apologies, I couldn't help myself. Shall we lie together?" John asked, looking up into his eyes. "It's been so terribly long since we've been able to spend a night alone. Every time I wake at sunrise, I wish I would never have to leave."

Stranger: Sherlock was used to people undressing and dressing him. It was for the servants to make sure that Sherlock looked his best at all times. But John undressing him was different. Every time his hands touched his skin, he would shiver and goosebumps would appear on his skin. When he was finally in front of him in just his pants, goosebumps covered his arms and legs. John's rough hands rubbing over his chest made his breath stutter and looked at him with wide eyes. "It's fine," he assured him. "I want to lie with you every night. I want to sleep in with every morning. I want to lock you in my chambers and never have you leave ever." He reached forward and ran his hands across John's ribs in an imitation of John's touch. "I love how you feel."

You: "I would be graciously happy if you ordered me to never leave." John pointed out. He took a few steps closer so their chests pressed together. It felt so very good, and so very warm. "You can feel me whenever you'd like, my Prince, if you love it so much. But, you must know I reciprocate that statement entirely." He caressed Sherlock's hipbones softly with his thumbs, and began to rub soft circles in his pale flesh. Soon, though, he knew it was time to lie together. So, John pulled himself up on the heavenly bed, and tugged Sherlock up as well. He made sure they were on their sides, holding each other with their legs tangled. John brushed a stray curl from the prince's forehead, and he let out a content sigh. "I love you, Sherlock, with all of my heart. And I want you to know that no matter the rules, I will always be yours, and you will always be mine. I know the King and Queen will most likely start to insist on suitors, and as much as it kills me, I know that it is a duty you cannot escape. Can you promise me, though, that if you do marry you will keep me as your servant? I couldn't bear to leave you, even then."

Stranger: Sherlock leaned into John's touch, resting his forehead against John's as he rubbed his hips. He kissed John's temple, then his cheek, and then his neck. He felt like he couldn't taste his skin enough. He followed John up onto the bed, eyes blown wide and feeling happier than he had all day. He rubbed his calf over John's and kissed him gently when he brushed his hair away. John was always so gentle and careful with him that it made Sherlock feel cherished. A pang went through Sherlock's chest at the thought of the potential suitors that would be inflicted upon him. "I do not want suitors. I want you. To be with you," Sherlock said stubbornly. He was the prince. He should be able to have what he wanted, but he knew by now that wasn't how it worked. In some ways, even servants had more privileges than princes. They could love and lie with whomever they wanted. "I will deny every suitor who comes to woo me. I will never dismiss you, not until you ask me to. I don't want you to feel trapped, though, John. If you want to leave a life of servitude, I will grant you that as well. I will give you anything you want. I wish I could give you my hand."

You: "All I could ever want is you happy. Of course, I want to be with you forever, with no one in the way. But, without any changes, it may be hard." John kissed his nose gently. "You are almost everything to me, Sherlock. I've known you for my whole life, you're the best royal I have ever met. You treat me with respect, and you've helped me become a better, smarter man. I've never felt so very loved before, and so I owe you so much. I want to be with you for the rest of my days, even if it means only getting to serve you and help you with daily activities. I never wish to stop our relationship, but if something were to make it not possible, I would still have some way of talking with you." John explained. He wished that Mycroft would move away, and leave the crown to Sherlock. This way, Sherlock could make his own rules, and be able to make their love allowed. But, John also hoped Mycroft would come to his senses and do that exact thing if he got the crown. "I already have your hand, do not worry, dear sire. I'm already bonded with you until I perish."

Stranger: Sherlock shifted as close to John as he could and closed his eyes, letting his words wash over him. He never understood class distinctions. He judged people on the worthiness of their ideas, on their intelligence, and on their bravery. Most everyone fell below his expectations, except for John, who exceeded them in every way. It hurt to imagine having to sleep with someone else in his bed while John looked on, knowing they both wished for something different. The declaration of John's devotion moved him and he grabbed onto one of John's hands and squeezed it hard. "Perhaps Mycroft shares our sentiments. When he is king, he may want Gregory Lestrade by his side. There's always that to hope for," he said, wondering if his brother would have the guts to abolish that law. He would have ambitious plans, but he didn't know if following his heart was among them. "You should talk to the stableboy and find out more about their relationship. He may be an unexpected ally." He stopped to kiss John's check and his collar bone. "You make me better as well. No one will ever captivate me like you do. You are one of a kind, John Watson."

You: "I've known Gregory for a short amount of time, but I will do my very best to speak with him. He will know about heart and devotion, and maybe he can speak with your brother. He must want his hand as well, I'd say." John explained. His heart welled up at Sherlock's words and he couldn't help but dive his face forwards. He smashed his lips upon the royals, kissing him deep and thorough. He loved the sweet taste of his lover's lips, how the full shape felt under his own smaller ones. John held him in a tight hold, that was protective and firm, and rolled so the detective lie upon him. John almost had to laugh about how light the man was, and he ran his hands down Sherlock's back softly. Sherlock really did need to eat more. As they kissed, John realized he wanted nothing more than to kiss and touch Sherlock all night. He feared falling asleep, because that would waste precious time they had to love each other in the physical sense. "I love you so much, your grace." John whispered, taking a moment to breathe in some air.

Stranger: Sherlock was glad that John was up to the task. If he could get this Gregory Lestrade to convince his brother that the old laws about class were ridiculous, perhaps he had a chance of being with John in the open. Perhaps John could stay in his bed whenever he wanted once his old, traditionalist father died and Mycroft ascended to the throne. These practical thoughts were pushed away by John's mouth, however, and soon Sherlock lost himself to sensation. John kissed like he was drowning and it was impossible for Sherlock not to become swept up in the tide. He loved how John could surround him even though he was the shorter. His arm on his back and his body beneath him made him feel cocooned. He ran his fingers through John's short blond hair and found himself gasping when he pulled away. Sometimes Sherlock forgot to breathe as they kissed and he always felt silly for it. John captured so much of his attention that it became difficult to remember anything else. "I love you as well, my John. I'm not crushing you, am I?" he asked, prepared to shift his weight however John wanted it.

You: "Not at all, love, you're as skinny as a twig. I must make sure to feed you more often. I will bring platters to your room so you can get some more weight on those long bones of yours." John assured, with a soft laugh. His hands caressed the man above him in his entirely; sliding along each inch of his skin delicately. Once Sherlock had finished gasping, John smiled softly and leaned in to kiss him again. This time, he made the kiss sweet, and soft. It was short lived, however, and then John started to kiss him hungrily. His mouth trailed down the man's long neck, kissing the expanse of pale skin that greeted him. He waited to bite in until he was down far on his collar bone. "You will be able to hide this with your clothing." John assured, nipping and sucking at the particular spot. He made a deep mark in Sherlock's skin, and when John pulled his lips back to inspect it, he smiled proudly. "My love, oh how I wish I could mark these all over your tender skin." He whispered, reaching up a hand to tangle it in his curls again.

Stranger: Sherlock doubted he was all that light, but if John wanted him here, he was happy to oblige. He liked laying on top of John and being able to feel him solidly under him. "Eating just slows me down. Experiments are more important than rich meals," he told John through his pants. He felt his breath come back to him and then John was on him again. The first few seconds of the kiss tasted of love and devotion and affection. Soon, though, he could feel the want in John's mouth. He tilted his head to the side to bare his neck for him. His hand clenched on John's shoulder when he bit down and he let out a ragged gasp and moan. His hips thrust of their own accord, aroused by the though of John's mark staying with him for days afterward. He touched it with his fingertips when John pulled away, admiring the tenderness. "No suitor would dare attempt to seduce me if they saw your mark on my skin," Sherlock told him. "I wish you could mark up my neck where everyone could see. I wish everyone knew, so the silly little serving girls would stop eyeing you." He captured John's lips in his own and then kissed along his jaw, nibbled his earlobe.

You: John let out a soft moan. His earlobe had always been a bit sensitive, but his weak point was right underneath his ear. Sherlock knew this, of course, and John had a feeling that's where he was headed. Through heavy breaths, John spoke, his voice cracking a bit as he felt so much bliss. "I don't care about the serving girls. I'm not marrying anyone unless it's you. There is no woman or man that could compare to you." John promised. "You may mark me, my love, wherever you please. Marks made will keep the girls eyes adverted." John loved all of the sounds Sherlock was making, and the need that was beginning to fill the prince. John was feeling the same thing, the lust, the love, the need to be touching his lover in every way. "I wish people knew that my lovely Prince had me, and had my hand. That I was loved by someone so very special to me." John rubbed their bodies together, feeling the ecstasy of it, and moaning softly.

Stranger: Sherlock let his breath huff across John's ear, teasing him just around that sensitive spot. John knew he would eventually attack it, but Sherlock wanted to take him completely by surprise when he did. He wanted him thoroughly distracted by other things before he bit and licked at that spot. It was hard to be patient, though, when John was offering him his entire body to lick and suck and mark. Sherlock's hips bucked again and he pressed his lips to the spot underneath John's ear, laving it with his tongue and scraping it with his teeth until he was sure there was some sort of mark there. He didn't stop to check, though, and made his way down John's neck, marking it where he pleased. A bruise at his pulse point and a bite mark beneath his jaw. "I love you," he murmured into John's ear, kissing the tender spot gently. "You give up so much for me and I know that. You are perfect."

You: John let out a large moan, and realized just how loud he was being. His hand went to cover his mouth as he moaned, trying to muffle the sounds. He couldn't have anyone hearing them, even if he slightly wanted them to. Sherlock's expert mouth teased his sensitive spot, making him feel so very good, and so very lustful. "Sherlock.." he breathed, unable to say anymore. It was almost a plead, really. "I love you as well, Sherlock. I want to give up everything to be with you, because I love you so much. Please, Sherlock, let us fully touch." John begged, knowing he sounded completely ridiculous, and broken under his lover. He couldn't help it, though, he felt so very good and in need of /more/. His hand went down and tugged on Sherlock's silk garment, hoping to rid him of it so they could fully be pressed against one another.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled at the way John sounded, breathy and needy. It was wonderful, knowing that it had been Sherlock who had made him sound this way. He took John's lead and tried to be quieter. It wouldn't do for someone to come in and check on the prince to see if he was hurt only to find him in bed with one of the servants. He reached down in between them and managed to shimmy out of his pants to reveal his cock, kicking the silk off his legs and eventually off of his ankle. Then he fiddled with John's, trying to pull it off of his hips.

Stranger: (get that?)

You: ((Yes, sorry! I'm getting myself some lunch xD))

Stranger: (that's fine!)

You: John bit down on his lip as he saw Sherlock, fully exposed for him to see. Oh, how he'd missed that sight. "Here, let me help, my love." John said, pushing down the ratty pants he wore. He kicked them off his legs like Sherlock had, and once they were both free, John pulled Sherlock down against him. The contact was warm and hot, and John let out a groan, which was luckily muffled by the crook of Sherlock's neck that he buried his face into. John rubbed their bodies together, and held Sherlock tight in his arms. "You're beautiful." John breathed, "I love you so much." With this, John lifted his head and kissed his lover hungrily again. He was so very needy, and though he should have more control, the separation between them proved to be bad for John's stamina, it seemed. Gosh, he wished they could do this whenever they pleased. Maybe in the morning when they both woke up holding each other. or maybe deep in the night when the rest of the Kingdom was fast asleep, they could head out into the gardens and share a lovely kiss in the moonlight. If only they were allowed...

Stranger: Sherlock fell against John and groaned along with him. He kissed behind his ear again before burying his face in John's hair. He could breath in his scent here and he took full advantage of it, rubbing his nose against his forehead. He kissed John back, sucking on his bottom lip, nibbling at him, wanted to consume him or to be consumed. He was too far gone to speak now that they were both getting the friction they wanted and he knew this would be over very quickly. He was determined to make sure that John came back tomorrow night as well. He couldn't stand to be apart from him again. It wasn't long before Sherlock let out a small cry of John's name and spilled his release between them, biting at the spot behind John's ear.

You: John was so very close, he knew. And then Sherlock was spilling over them, pulsating, and John let go. He slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his cry of Sherlock's name, while he spilled across their bodies. His mess mixed with Sherlock's, and once they were both spent, John let Sherlock flop down on him tiredly. John didn't even care that they were messy with sweat and semen. It didn't matter. He felt so very loved, and intimacy with Sherlock was something he kept deep in his heart. Now more tired than before, John hugged Sherlock tight and snuggled him. "I love you, oh, Sherlock..." John mumbled, his whole body feeling completely happiness. He was relaxed now, breathing heavy from the stimulation, but still relaxed. "Tomorrow night, I will come back and spend it with you. We will tell everyone you are ordering me to paint you." John said, laughing quietly. Most commoners were known to paint, sing, and do soft activities in their free time. And thought John wasn't exactly a prized artist, he knew he could throw something together for proof.

Stranger: Sherlock was afraid that he might crush John, despite his assurances, but he felt so boneless after his orgasm that it was impossible not to fall down on top of him. He could feel their mess stick between them but he didn't have the motivation or the energy to get up and clean them off. Especially not when John wrapped his arms around him and held him close. He could feel John's lungs heaving underneath of him and knew that he was panting as well, but it was hard to care. He nuzzled at John's temple and John's neck, listening to his plan. "Good. That's a brilliant plan, John. Come back and paint a beautiful picture of me and then we can lie together again. Maybe you can sing for me too," Sherlock replied, his voice lisping slightly now that he was so relaxed. "I love your voice when you call my name like that."

You: "Of course, my art skills aren't fantastic. But I'm quite sure I could come up with something decent. Ah, yes, well. Tell me a song, and I'll sing it for you. I do have one particular favourite that you might like to hear sometime." John whispered, with a soft smile. "But, let us leave the activities for tomorrow. I promise then, as we hold each other I will sing for you until we fall into slumber." John nuzzled their noses and kissed him quickly. "I promise when we are alone and able to be as loud as we please, I will call out your name just how you like it. But, I love when you cry my name. Maybe when we have the chance, we could try something a bit more intimate." John suggested, a blush now coming to his cheeks. "In the morning I will stay as long as I can, but I will unfortunately have to scoot off to help prepare breakfast for the entire royal family. Once breakfast has been finished, I will slip to the stables to speak with Gregory Lestrade. And then, I will finish my duties and come to visit you."

Stranger: Sherlock kissed him back, wondering what song he could mean. He wanted to know what sort of songs John liked. Sherlock knew songs that were sung by the singers at court, not the songs sung by the common people or by the servants. He was sure they were very different. Why would common people want to sing about great wars that are so far removed from them? "I want to hear your favourite song tomorrow," Sherlock told him, looking up at his blush curiously. "What is it you want to try, John? You know that I will not deny you anything." He listened to John's plan and found it to be sound. "Please try not to be seen speaking to Gregory Lestrade. There shouldn't be any connection between you. I do not want you getting in trouble if my brother gets found with him." He let out a yawn, tired from the night's activities. He reached up and touched the bruise on his collarbone.

You: John kissed his bruise softly, hitting his fingers as well. It was just a sweet gesture, as he hoped the Prince wasn't regretting the mark. Lifting his hand, John carded his fingers through Sherlock's hair. "I was thinking, possibly something a bit more intimate, something that will feel exceptionally good after the slight hurt is gone." John explained. His free hand traveled down and he softly placed it on Sherlock's backside. "I want you to take me here, sometime. I won't force this on you, of course, but I want to know what it's like with you." He was deeply red at the suggestion, knowing how embarrassing this was to speak about rather than do. "I was wondering if you'd like to try this inside of me?" he finally asked. John was so embarrassed, that he buried his face into the others neck. "Oh, my lord, this is terribly odd, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I've turned you off, or disrespected you."

Stranger: Sherlock's heart warmed when John kissed his bruise and he gave him a smile. He settled back down when John began petting his hair, the motion soothing. He jumped when John touched him and felt his own face heating up. He looked up to see John's blush and felt better knowing that John was embarrassed as well. He shushed John and kissed the top of his head. "You have done either of those things, love," he assured him. "I want to try it sometime, of course I do. I know you can make sure that it doesn't hurt and that I won't hurt you. We can try it with me inside of you and you inside of me. I want to try everything with you."

You: John felt so very lucky, and he cupped Sherlock's cheeks. "Okay, good. I promise we will try everything, and make love together whenever we can." Taking a moment, John reached over and grabbed the handkerchief off of the side table, and slipped a hand between them to wipe off the sticky mess. He knew neither would like to wake up with that dried onto their skin. Then he tossed the cloth aside and snuggled lose to Sherlock. "We should sleep, your majesty. The door is locked, the moon is up. We are entirely satisfied of our lust, and now, we can hold each other in the throes of slumber. You hardly sleep, my Prince, so all I ask is you at least try with me tonight?" John kissed his cheek softly.

Stranger: Sherlock thanked John quietly as he cleaned them off and settled down beside John, glad that he wanted to be as close as possible. He laid a hand on John's chest so that he could feel his heartbeat. It was a soothing rhythm and Sherlock found himself yawning again. He opened his eyes when John kissed his cheek and gave him a sleepy smile. "I cannot sleep well without you here with me anymore. Unless you are here to sleep beside, it is more productive to work on my experiments. But your presence calms me, John. I'll sleep well tonight. Wake me before you go, please. I don't want to wake up with you gone."

You: John brought him into one more sweet kiss, cupping his cheek. And then, he pulled back and rested into the bed, smiling at his lover. He slipped an arm along his back, holding his waist, and kept him comforted. "I promise I will wake you before I go. I will give you many kisses before I flee, of course. I hope to see you at the breakfast table in the morning, so I can make you another cuppa. But, if you'd like to stay in your room,I could also bring the breakfast to you." John promised, kissing his cheek once more. "I love you, my Prince. Have a wonderful sleep, and I will see you in the morning." He whispered. First pulling the heavenly duvet on them, John then placed his free hand atop Sherlock's that was on his chest, and he closed his eyes, waiting to fall into a good slumber. It was so warm with the other, and John had to admit he hardly slept when he was away from Sherlock. He was haunted by nightmares, but he didn't tell Sherlock. He didn't want the prince to worry.

Stranger: Sherlock kissed him back, but kept his eyes closed. He could almost hear John's smile and the arm around him brought the last bit of tension from his shoulders. John was here and the door was locked and it was nighttime. They wouldn't be disturbed. He'd get to sleep beside John for hours and have some time in the morning to shower him in affection. "I will come to breakfast, I think. Mycroft says I spend too much time on my own," he told him, hunkering down beneath the duvet and ducked his head so that he was almost fully covered by it. He got cold very easily but now that John was beside him, he knew he would be warm the whole night through. He fell asleep almost instantly, drifting off into a deep slumber now that he felt safe and loved.

You: John caressed him and fell into slumber himself. He did not have any nightmares that night, which he was very thankful for. And he woke early in the morning when the light shone past the large tapestries covering the grand windows. His eyes fluttered open as he recalled all that had happened in the night. A smile came to his face at the though, and he started to give out a joyful giggle. Oh, Sherlock, lovely Sherlock. Pulling him right against him, John plastered kissed all over his face, hoping to wake him up pleasantly. "Sherlock, my love, time to wake up." John whispered into his ear, kissing his earlobe softly. "I have no more than twenty minutes to spend with you, my prince, so let us kiss until I must go." John knew he'd have to get his clothes back on, but that wouldn't take long. Besides, the messiness of him uniform could only be given the excuse that Sherlock made them work on science experiments all night. The royal family may be mad, but he had no other uniform to wear, so they would have to do with the one that was on.

Stranger: Sherlock woke up slowly and drowsily when he felt the kisses on his face. There was no sweeter way to wake up with John's lips against his skin and a murmur in his ear. He blinked his eyes open and gave him a large, sleepy smile. "So soon?" he said, saddened by the thought of their time together ending. Even if John would be back that evening, he would miss him throughout the day. It was even worse at breakfast, when he had to treat John as he treated all the other servants. If he didn't snap at John like he did the others, his family would know that something was going on. Being cruel to John made Sherlock feel horridly guilty. He captured John's lips after a moment. "There isn't any time to waste. Twenty minutes is the blink of an eye." His voice was rough with sleep.

You: John had to admit, the roughness f Sherlock's voice definitely was bloody nice to listen to. Normally his voice was like liquid velvet, seeping into you so delicately. But now, it was hoarse and rough and almost..dirty. John shivered softly and nuzzled him. "Don't stop talking and don't stop kissing me." John said, as a response to their short time left together. "Do not worry about being cruel to me at dining. I know you mean no word of it, and my acting skills have become much better to respond as a normal servant would." he explained, pressing a chaste kiss to Sherlock's lips. "Tonight, we will be together. I shall bring my things to paint you. I'll miss you terribly. Oh, and I will be very careful sneaking out and also talking to the stableboy, I promise."

You: *of.

Stranger: Sherlock placed kisses on John's neck and shoulders and chest and face while he spoke, doing just as he requested. He knew that John had always liked his voice, but this was obviously a special case. He was careful not to clear his throat so that it would maintain that scratchy quality that John seemed to like. "I hate being mean to you. I love your tea, it is better than anyone else's, but I will have to insult it when you bring it to me. I will have to remark on your shuffling footsteps and shabby dress. I will demand you receive a newly made uniform, but I will make it sound like it is your fault." Sherlock hated that he had to be so mean. "Tell me everything that happens with the stableboy when you come back to me. And come back to me as soon as it is appropriate." He kissed down his chest, at his sternum, and eventually placed his mouth over one of his nipples. "You will paint me and sing to me and we can try that intimacy you mentioned last night."

You: "O-Okay." John breathed, with a nod, as he watched the man so close to his nipple. Sherlock knew he was a bit sensitive there, as well, and John really didn't want to get hot now. Not when he had to leave. He pulled Sherlock up and cupped his cheeks, looking into his eyes. "I will duck my head and bow to you, making sure I know what I have done wrong. And with this I will make you another tea just to your liking, as well as bring you some biscuits for my mistake. I may act scared, like a rabbit, but truly it will mean nothing. I know you love me." John assured, kissing his lips quickly. "I love when you speak to me, it's so handsome." John admitted, flushing in the slightest. He kissed Sherlock again, lingering, with a frown. "Would you like to help me dress, kind sir?" He liked the thought of Sherlock helping him into the clothes they had strewn across the floor that night. It would remind him that Sherlock was getting the chance to take them off later, which made his heart flutter.

Stranger: Sherlock's eyes twinkled mischievously. He knew that John was very sensitive there and that it would make him crave more. Sherlock wanted to make him crave more. He wanted him to stay for twenty five minutes, thirty, and hour. All day. But he knew that could not happen. John would act at dinner like Sherlock scared him and angered him and Sherlock would have to act like John was the scum beneath his shoe. At least with Mycroft and his stableboy, they would not have to interact often in a professional setting. It was hard to act as if they had not laid together yesterday. "I would love to help you dress," he said at once, jumping off the bed to grab John's pants and uniform. He knelt in front of him and helped him dress like servants had done for Sherlock all his life. He was gentle and his touches lingered, though, where a servants would not. He pulled up John's pants and buttons his uniform, sometimes trailing kisses one his skin before he covered it with cloth. It took longer to dress him than it should have.

You: John let Sherlock do as he pleased, savoring every touch and way Sherlock would dress him. It made him feel so warm and loved, so very lucky, and as soon as Sherlock finished, John pulled him into a heart wrenching kiss. It lasted for a few minutes, and then John pulled back reluctantly. "I love you, Sherlock, and I promise I will be back as soon as I can be. Get dressed, my love, and I'll see you at the dining table." John promised. With one more swift kiss, John fled to the door. He was late, so very late, and his mum would be furious, along with the higher classes. he gave one last smile in Sherlock's direction, straightened himself, and headed out the door. He quickly ducked along to the kitchen, where he got an earful from his mother, and a few other servants. But, he just took it without answering the truth. He gave the excuse, which made the servant understand. They all didn't like Sherlock, for his stubborn attitude. Really, he was a great person, but only John knew this. Once all the food was ready, John helped set the items out on the table. Everyone was sitting around, except for Sherlock. John tried not to glance around for him, knowing Mycroft would be suspicious. Then, John went back to the kitchen to make the Queen her favourite tea, along with Sherlock's.

Stranger: Sherlock watched John go with sadness and wanting in his eyes. "I love you as well. Be careful. Don't reveal anything," he warned him as he always did. One wrong word and John could doom himself to a beating and a dismissal from service. Or worse, depending on how merciful his parents were feeling. They couldn't harm Sherlock since he was their son, but they could do whatever they wanted to John. They had to keep their love a secret. Sherlock lounged around in his room, remembering all the ways that John had touched him last night and continuing to touch the bruise of his collarbone. Finally, he dressed himself in fresh clothes and headed down the stairs for breakfast, knowing he would be late and that that would be expected. His mother gave him a disapproving look as he entered and he gave her a smirk before he sat down in his customary spot. John wasn't out. Most likely he was already making the tea that Sherlock would have to pretend to hate. He tapped his fingers against the table impatiently. He wanted this over and done with so he could be with John again. His experiments would distract him until John returned. But breakfast with his family was agonizing.

You: While in the kitchen, his mum came up and wrapped him in a soft hug. "John, dear, I hope the Prince hasn't worked you to death." she said, softly. John let out the softest of chuckles and he shook his head. "No, mum, it's alright. He was watching mold in the sink of his en-suite all night! Had me fetching tubes and viles. Wore me out, but I've had worse." he explained, lying straight through his teeth. He hated to lie to his mum (even though he knew she would understand their relationship), but he couldn't have her telling anyone. Or getting in trouble if she knew and kept it secret. John gave her a squeeze and then gently pushed her off. "Sorry, mum. I've got to give the gracious' their tea." He said, with a roll of his eyes. She gave him a playful slap on the shoulder, but smiled and let him head out. So, taking a good deep breath, John headed out with the tea. He kept his eyes away from the royals gazes, and set the first cuppa in front of the Queen. "Your tea, your grace." he said, softly. Then, he went over to Sherlock and placed the tea in front of him. "Tea, your majesty." Here it comes, the wrath as he would be starting to walk away. John braced himself for it.

Stranger: Sherlock barely listened as the Queen questioned him about why he had been late and what he'd been up to and if he had slept at all. Sherlock evaded most of her questions with bratty witticisms until she turned to the easier target of Mycroft. He could feel his brother eyeing him as he answered their mother's questions and made sure he keep his expression schooled as John entered with the tea. He watched his mother accept the tea with a nod of her head and made sure not to tense at all when John came over to give him his tea. He picked it up and took a sip, then promptly spit it all back out into the cup. "This is /disgusting/. Too much sugar," he complained loudly, snapping his fingers to call John back to him. "Make me another and do it /right/ this time, you absolute imbecile. You would think you'd have the intelligence to make tea correctly. You can barely fetch my cultures quick enough," he said with a scoff and an eye roll. He shoved the cup back into John's hands. "Go. Now."

You: John padded back quickly, eyes a bit wide as he was scolded. He took the tea back, and gave a bow. "Apologies, your grace." he said, softly, and scurried away. Almost as if he was scared, but mostly because he was acting ashamed, and guilty. If they'd not been together, he would have been terribly ashamed to get something wrong. He was that way with the other members of the family, though they were not as demanding sometimes. He made another cuppa, this time actually getting it right, just how Sherlock liked it, and he carried it back out quickly with a plate full of biscuits. He set them gently in front of him and gave a bow. "For my mistake, sir. It will never happen again, your majesty." John promised. He scurried back to stand by the doorway, frame firm as he waited for the royal Holmes family to eat. He couldn't help but notice Mycroft looked distracted, conflicted. John was not as observational as Sherlock, but he did notice things. It must mean that Mycroft was thinking about speaking up!

Stranger: Sherlock felt horrible, seeing John run away from him like he had hit him. He made sure to keep his expression one of discontent so that no one would suspect him. When John came scurrying back with another cup of tea, he took a sip and nodded. "That's slightly better, I suppose," he said, which for him counted as praise. He was harsh with the other servants and he wouldn't deny it. But he was never harsh with John when they were alone. He nibbled at one of the biscuits and kept half an eye on John as he went back to his post. His eyes were drawn to his brother, who looked uncomfortable. He could tell he was about to speak. Panic filled him, wondering if he'd figured out all. Before Mycroft could speak, however, Sherlock spoke up himself, which was rare. He wanted his brother to know what would happen if he said anything about John's visits to his room. "I heard you went to the stables a few days past, brother. Finally decided to stop being lazy and learn to ride properly?"

You: John tried not to start laughing right then and there, and god, the expression on Mycroft's face really was amusing. He'd definitely have a chuckle about it later when he visited his lovers chamber. He watched, noting that the older was trying to compose himself. "Yes, /brother/." Mycroft sneered a bit, "I've been taking interest in riding again, as to Father's wishes for me to go across to the next Kingdom for business." John knew the man was lying, but it seemed he had more to say. The elder placed his teacup down on the table and cleared his throat. "Mother, Father, Sherlock -" The brother rolled his eyes a bit at Sherlock's name, and then continued with a firm voice. "It has been decided that once I am to receive the crown, I will be making some changes around the Kingdom. For I have decided I wish not to marry the suitors chosen. The matters of our Kingdom are much more important, as well as my sudden realization that I am fond of someone else in particular." He stated. The King, being his old, and sickly self didn't say much. The Queen looked confused, John saw. Himself, he felt so overjoyed at the moment. He wanted to run up to Sherlock and throw his arms around him. Because /Mycroft/ was going to change the rules. He was going to let them /marry/.

Stranger: Sherlock saw the expression on Mycroft's face and felt relieved. He wouldn't dare reveal them now, now that he knew that Sherlock would reveal him as well. His calm only last a few moments, however, when he saw that Mycroft wasn't done speaking yet. He stiffened in his seat and watched Mycroft carefully. His brother wouldn't sacrifice his own skin to get one up on Sherlock, would he? He wasn't that stupid, or that cruel. When he began speaking, Sherlock could hardly believe his ears. Was Mycroft about to announce his intent to change the laws that kept him and John apart? He couldn't help but glance at his lover across the dining hall, wondering if he was hearing right. He would go down on his knees and thank Gregory Lestrade for whatever he had done to charm his brother into making this decision.

Stranger: (I have to go, I'm so sorry! Do you want to continue this over email?)

You: ((Awh! That's a shame!! I wish I could, but I won't be able to, I'm so, so, so sorry! This was so bloody fantastic, though <33 You are a bloody great Sherlock, love!))

Stranger: (Thanks! I loved your John as well. This was AMAZING. <3)

You: ((It really was!!!! :D))

Stranger: (Thanks for this! Maybe I'll catch you around here sometime.)

Stranger has disconnected.